Thrice Cursed Criminal: Stick, Stone and Shawl
by Belegast
Summary: The bingo book is full of criminals. Weak ones and strong ones, slow ones and quick ones, smart ones and dumb ones. But one thing they all had in common: they all had a rank between E and SS, but not him. Because for him it was never normal, never ordinary, "I hereby declare Hari Potter a SSS-class rogue-nin from Kirigakure", and never easy. Rated M (just to be save)
1. Chapter 1

Thrice Cursed Criminal: Stick, Stone and Shawl:

Summary: The bingo book is full of criminals. Weak ones and strong ones, slow ones and quick ones, smart ones and dumb ones. But one thing they all had in common: they all had a rank between E and SS, but not him. Because for him it was never normal, never ordinary, "I hereby declare Hari Potter a SSS-class rogue-nin from Kirigakure", and never easy. Rated M (just to be save)

Auteurs Note: I should probably not be beginning a new story when I still have two others that need updating, but this has been going around in my head for a while now and I just had to put it on paper (or my hard drive in this case). I hope you enjoy reading this as much as I enjoyed writing it.

Disclaimer: I own none of the characters in this fanfiction and they all belong to their original owners.

Chapter 1: Running and Ratings

…

 _Count the garden by the flowers,_

 _never by the leaves that fall._

 _Count your life by smiles,_

 _never by the tears that roll._

 _-Unknown_

…

'Shit!' He thought as he once again felt one of their presences brush against the corners of his mind. They couldn't be far behind now, they never were. Wherever he went they would just keep following him, he could pass through the deepest caverns and over the highest mountains, but they would always be but a hairbreadth behind him. They didn't tire, never slept and just kept running, always running and always hunting him.

Hunter-nin they called themselves, ANBU and a variety of other names. He didn't know who they were, where they were from or how they always found them. He learned their titles by listening to the local gossip of the many small villages that he passed through. Shinobi, that was what they were, the sort of police of this world, the army and the last hope to many a man. But they were also the warmongers, the terrorist, the assassins and the last thing many a man saw. They were two sides of a coin, they were war and they were peace, they were life and they were death.

They used things that the local populace called 'jutsu's', their own kind of magic. With but a few movements of their hands they could heal the most atrocious wound and inflict them as well. They could breathe giant streams of fire and raise earth walls the height of houses with but a few movements of their fingers. Oh and one more thing, they were fast. Really fucking fast.

He didn't pack his supply's nor did he bother finishing the meal he had just cooked himself, he knew that he didn't have any more seconds to lose. The only thing he grabbed before running out of the camp was his bottomless bag. The rest of the items were either worthless or could just be replaced by transfiguration. He could better start moving, for they would not be waiting for him to start.

…

His leg muscles were aching, after having run for four hours straight from the shinobi that were hunting him he had near to no strength left in his legs. With what could only be described as pure power of will he kept moving, not once stopping. His boots had long ago become saggy and ragged by the muddy undergrowth of the forest but he paid no mind to it. Instead he kept his senses open using the little magic he had left in his system to reinforce his ears, enabling him to hear the softest of sounds as if they were strengthened a hundred times over.

It was this that saved him as he managed to dodge under the first kunai that was thrown at him, just neatly cutting off some of his long black locks of hair. This contraption of magic however didn't enhance his vision in any way. So when he spotted the yellowy piece of paper with black writing on it that was attached to the back of kunai he had just dodged, it was already too late and he could only raise a weak in time to save him from the explosion.

This shield only saved him from the blunt of the explosion, dimming the heat and nullifying most of the push behind it. The remaining power behind the blast was still enough to knock him off his feet, shooting him back a couple of yards and knocking him to the ground in the progress. Before he could fully come to his feet he could hear them, racing towards his position.

50 yards…

30 yards…

20 yards…

10 yards…

Here…

Eight figures dropped down around him, creating a perfect circle and leaving no room to escape. Each of them wore a bone white mask, illuminating their features from clear view. On each of the masks the face of an animal was drawn, he easily spotted the more obvious once: cat, wolf, panda and dog. The other four were harder to figure out, not that it mattered for they all had one thing in common: they were here to kill him.

"Hari Potter, SSS-class rogue-nin from Kirigakure we hereby give you a chance to surrender yourself to us, should you deny this offer we have been authorized to use lethal force." The man, were he to guess by his deep voice, with the dog mask stated. Harry gazed around himself, he was completely surrounded and if his senses were sound there were at least another eight shinobi in backup. In more civilians words, he was thoroughly fucked. His gaze landed on the spoke person of the group of shinobi, "I choose-" he started, taking note of the hand of the shinobi that was slowly creeping towards the kunai pouch on his hip, "- bombarda maxima!"

…

8 hours earlier:

Hiruzen Sarutobi, the Sandaime Hokage of the Village hidden in the Leaves slowly put down the scroll that he had been reading in, a serious expression etched into his old rippled face. He had just finished reading the latest update on a certain individual that had for a long time evaded any sort of detection and he was closer than he had ever thought, closer than he had ever hoped.

He stayed still for a moment, leaning back in his comfortable chair while pondering about the next course of action, usually such an important problem such as this would be discussed with the elders and the court of Shinobi, maybe even the Fire Daiymo would be warned. But there was no time in this case, he had escaped capture for too long, he was too much of a wildcard, someone with his sort of power could not be spared.

The Sandaime may be a Hokage that liked to make decision with his hearth, he wasn't without a brain. He had been a shinobi for over forty years, he knew the harsh truths, and this was one of them. "Bring Dog to me!" He shouted at the ceiling. There wasn't much time.

It wasn't long before Dog arrived, the ANBU that had to get him must have really explained the urgency of the situation, it wasn't often that Dog wasn't late. "Dog,-" Sarutobi started making the white masked ANBU look at him with an inquiry gaze "- I have a mission for you, you are to collect a total of 4 ANBU teams, more if you deem it necessary. What I am about to tell you is an S-ranked secret and you are not allowed to discuss it with others beside the ANBU that you choose to help you in mission. Furthermore, this mission will be viewed as an SSS-ranked one."

That last bit really got Dog's attention, as he and the rest of the Shinobi civilization knew what it meant to get such a mission. "The details of the mission are descripted in this scroll, leave immediately, there is no time to lose." Dog bowed before the Hokage and made for the door, just as he was about to pull it close behind him he heard the Hokage say a last few words: "Please be save Kakashi, I can't go into the afterlife telling him that I failed you." Dog froze for a moment, before nodding and softly closing the door behind him and disappearing in a swirl of leaves.

…

'So he is finally here-' Dog thought as he jumped from roof to roof to get to the ANBU headquarters as quickly as possible '-The Lord of Snakes, Wielder of the Wooden staff and Speaker of the language of Death has finally arrived.' He was nearing the ANBU headquarters now, he needed to be quick if he wanted to catch him, there was no time to lose. 'The murderer of the Mizukage has finally come.'

AN: I hope you enjoyed the first chapter of 'Thrice Cursed Criminal: Stick, Stone and Shawl' Here is a little sneak peek into the upcoming chapter, have fun.

 _Sneak peek:_

 _Chapter 2: Bingo books and the like_

 _"You are all here because you want to be shinobi one day-" Iruko started "- being a shinobi means many things, most more gruesome than you'd wish." He looked around the class and wondered once again how these kids, for that was what they were, were ever going to graduate to genin this year._

 _"This is the bingo book-" Iruko stated as he tapped on the brown leather bounded book that he had resting on his desk "- if you were to become a shinobi, you would get your own page in this book, your own bounty, your own hunter-nin after your head." He gazed around the class, taking in the shocked the looks of most of the students._

 _"You will all learn how to work with this book, what the different classes of shinobi are and what sort of information you can get from this book." He continued once again gazing at the students, only to notice a certain yellow haired boy sleeping in the back of the class. With a single precise thrown he nicked the blond in the head with the book, waking him in the progress._

 _"As I said –" he started again but not before shooting a glare at the blond that was now busy scratching his head in pain. "- each of the shinobi in the bingo book have their own rank, this rank says something about their strength, their knowledge of ninjutso, genjutso and taijutso and their overall power. These ranks differ between a SS-class shinobi to an E-class shinobi. Yes Naruto?" He asked the boy that now had an open bingo book in front of him._

 _"If the ranks only go from SS to E, why does this Hari Potter have a SSS rank, who is he?" The class now all focused their gazes on their sensei, obvious eagerly waiting for an answer. "A monster" Iruko mumbled "Hari Potter is a monster"_


	2. Chapter 2

Thrice Cursed Criminal: Stick, Stone and Shawl:

Summary: The bingo book is full of criminals. Weak ones and strong ones, slow ones and quick ones, smart ones and dumb ones. But one thing they all had in common: they all had a rank between E and SS, but not him. Because for him it was never normal, never ordinary, "I hereby declare Hari Potter a SSS-class rogue-nin from Kirigakure", and never easy. Rated M (just to be save)

Auteurs Note: I know I am a bit late, but hereby the second chapter of Thrice Cursed Criminal: Stick, Stone and Shawl. I hope you enjoy. (The 4th chapter of Eyes like His should be up at the end of this weekend)

Disclaimer: I own none of the characters in this fanfiction and they all belong to their original owners.

Chapter 2: Bingo books and the like

…

 _Strength_

 _A river cuts through a rock,_

 _Not because of its power but its persistence._

 _-Jim Watkins_

…

Magical cores were odd things. In contrary to what many would think and even more would be willing to confess everyone had them, muggles and wizards alike. But the one thing that differentiated magical cores from the many other magical supplements was the way it worked.

Many people thought that magic was created by the user bodies, that it was a sort of physical energy, that the magic was shaped by one's own body. If one was too look at the more advanced working of magical cores they would be able to point out the faults in that theory. While it was true that each drip of magic had its own signature, that it belonged to a person, the origin of magic came from another source then was thought.

Humans, muggles and wizards alike, could only produce a small margin of their own magic, they relied on something entirely different to give the bulk of it to them, to produce it for them. Something many took for granted, the earth.

There was a reason that the main magic schools were positioned in Europe, Russia and South America. The magic of the earth flowed through its own veins, as water followed the path of a river, magic followed its own rivers. Lay-lines, filled with magic, were etched deep in the earth. Through these lay-lines the earth moved its magic and all a wizard had to do to fill up his magical core was to reach out and grab it and implement into himself. It of course shouldn't be a surprise that all of the main magic school were build right on top of junctions between lay-lines.

But while this brought many pros with it, it wasn't without faults nor without dangers. You still had to accept foreign magic into your system, and magic was a feeble thing. While wizards and witches could choose to use magic for either good and bad, magic itself could be good or bad as well.

Since magic was created by the earth itself, the sort of magic derived from what place on the earth is was from. It was a well-known fact that magic around places like Auswich, the mass graves in Cambodia and Gettysburg felt dark and depressed.

And Harry didn't know why, but the magic of this world was plain _evil_.

…

 _Flashback_

If you were to ask an average person what they were doing when they were 17 years old they might tell about that amazing vacation they were on, they might tell you about the time they 'borrowed' their parents car and took it for a test drive or they might just turn a bit red and give you a saucy wink.

But Harry Potter never was average considered your standard male nor was fighting a dark wizard when you were a mere 17 year old a standard thing to do. And it were times like this, that Harry looked back at his life and wondered where the hell he went wrong.

The Battle of Hogwarts was nearing its final face, the last few Death Eaters stood surrounded by the remaining defenders of Hogwarts, and Harry stood before an enraged looking Voldemort.

"Give up Tom." He spat at him.

He got a soft chuckle in reply, Voldemort slowly lifted his wand in the air, _Dumbledore's wand_ , and with an enraged roar started shooting spell after spell at Harry.

Harry did his best to deflect all the incoming spells, curses and hexes and while Harry was a gifted wizard persistence was its own kind of strength. And if there was one thing that could be said about Voldemort it's that he is determined.

I was getting increasingly hard for Harry to deflect all the spells as the battle raged on, curses that closer, hexes that sizzled against his ropes and spells that missed by a hairbreadth. Harry knew he could wait this out, Voldemort had an advantage in years, experience and power, he had to end this while he still could.

"Is this really all Tom?" He taunted his opponent "No wonder you couldn't end Dumbledore yourself, if this is all you got!"

While this tactic was meant well by Harry, for an angry opponent was an easy one, he hadn't really counted on the fact that it would only provide him with more curses to dodge.

Harry couldn't keep up anymore, his movements started becoming sloppy, leaving holes in defense and making his spells go wide. And Voldemort took advantage.

 _Avada Kedavra!_

 _Expelliarmus!_

And when the green and red spell hit each other midway… it happened.

…

Have you ever heard of a contradiction? It means that there is a difference or disagreement between two things which means that both cannot be true.

The rules of magic usually cooperate well with each other, they work together to bend the rules of mathematics and the laws of physics. Not once did they interfere directly with each other. Sure a certain spell can overpower another spell, but never was a rule which disabled another rule which in turn disables the first rule again. This was a contradiction, there were no contradiction in the wizarding world.

So when the stick of death, one of the deathly hallows was forced to kill its own master, something that it couldn't do, but by the rules of the spell cast also couldn't not do, it became a contradiction.

Apparently the gods of the wizarding world don't take kindly to those.

…

Harry groaned as he lifted his tired and battered body from the soft floor. 'Wait… soft?' Harry eyes immediately shot open, taking in his surroundings with a chock. He was lying in a field of grass, the sky was clouded with a grey carpet and he his breath was visible from the cold.

'Is this death?' Harry thought as he tried to get on this feet, only to immediately fall back his body protesting against the sudden strain.

'Is this Heaven?'. Harry thought as he suddenly heard a soft groan originating from the left of him, whipping his head around he could think but one thing. 'Shit, it's hell.'

A few feet to the right of him laid a black dressed man, his pale hands clenched into fists as he slowly got to his knees. 'What did you do to me?' The man, Voldemort, asked him in a raspy voice.

Harry was about to shoot the same question back when he suddenly heard a shout a few meters away. "We found the origin of the signal Mizukage-sama!" Harry peered at the edge of the clearing, trying to see through the thick smoke and hanging willows.

"What is it?" he then heard another voice ask, a voice of what could be nothing but a child's. Harry casted a fearful glance at Voldemort, who seemed to have heard the words as well if he was to go by the sadistic smirk crossing his serpentine features.

"Well well well, my dearest Harry. It seems like we have gotten ourselves an audience. We wouldn't want them to miss out on the show now would we?" Voldemort stood ,up albeit a bit shaky, and he seemed ready for another go.

'You gotten to be kidding me right?' Harry asked to himself as he too rose from the ground.

"Now then Harry, while I do not know how you managed to get us here it is but a slight disturbance to me, though I wish I could have killed before all your little half-blood friends." Voldemort said as he slowly raised his wand, _Dumbledore's wand_ , towards Harry.

Harry too raised his wand, mirroring Voldemort's movements. He just hoped that these muggles wouldn't interfere.

'Time to end this.' Were Harry's last thought before he pulled on his magic and readied his first spell.

It was his last thought before the world went red and all he could see was blood and death.

…

"You are all here because you want to be shinobi one day-" Iruka started "- being a shinobi means many things, most more gruesome than you'd wish." He looked around the class and wondered once again how these kids, for that was what they were, were ever going to graduate to genin this year.

"This is the bingo book-" Iruka stated as he tapped on the brown leather bounded book that he had resting on his desk "- if you were to become a shinobi, you would get your own page in this book, your own bounty, your own hunter-nin after your head." He gazed around the class, taking in the shocked the looks of most of the students.

"You will all learn how to work with this book, what the different classes of shinobi are and what sort of information you can get from this book." He continued once again gazing at the students, only to notice a certain yellow haired boy sleeping in the back of the class. With a single precise thrown he nicked the blond in the head with the book, waking him in the progress.

"As I said –" he started again but not before shooting a glare at the blond that was now busy scratching his head in pain. "- each of the shinobi in the bingo book have their own rank, this rank says something about their strength, their knowledge of ninjutso, genjutso and taijutso and their overall power. These ranks differ between a SS-class shinobi to an E-class shinobi. Yes Naruto?" He asked the boy that now had an open bingo book in front of him.

"If the ranks only go from SS to E, why does this Hari Potter have a SSS rank, who is he?" The class now all focused their gazes on their sensei, obvious eagerly waiting for an answer. "A monster" Iruka mumbled "Hari Potter is a monster."

…

 _Back to present time:_

"A monster…" mumbled frog as he saw his fellow ANBU, carper, get hit by a red colored spell, immediately disintegrating the limb to which it had connected and shooting him back into a tree.

Dog didn't understand how this mission, to which 4 ANBU teams were assigned, had gone so wrong. The target had even seen slightly scared at the beginning, though he hid it well.

It wasn't because Dog had underestimated his opponent, he was too experienced for that and after hearing all the rumors surrounding this supposed Lord of Snakes he was defiantly on guard. But even in the worst case scenario, 4 ANBU teams on one individual who had no backup should have been enough. That is where he had been wrong apparently.

Hari Potter had disseminated his attackers, slaughtered them, ripped them limps from limps. It had started with those first words, looking back on it he should have never let him open his mouth. But you learn from your failures, and you learned best from a gigantic explosion to the face.

Harry entire demeanor had changed after the first attack, the eyes that had been franticly searching for an escape had grown dull and void. His body language had changed from scarred to lifeless. And it wasn't the only language that had changed, hit somewhat broken Japanese had changed to some barbaric tongue, spitting words of darkness and power to his attacker. They didn't stand a chance.

Dog casted a quick look around him, of the 16 ANBU that had originally been with him only 6 still stood, 5 lay on the ground, some with burn wounds others with missing limbs. The last 5 laid scattered across the field, ripped to pieces and burned alive.

Dog knew that they had too retreat, there was no winning for them. As he saw carper being shot into a tree losing consciousness on impact he knew that it was time to go, there was nothing more than death to come from this fight. And it wouldn't be the death of their target.

"Retreat!" Dog barked to his fellow ANBU members. The leaf village had lost a battle today, but a wise man had told him once that after one lost battle the war was never over.

…

 _AN: I hope you enjoyed the second chapter of 'Thrice Cursed Criminal: Stick, Stone and Shawl' Here is a little sneak peek into the upcoming chapter, have fun._

" _Who are you?" Harry asked the black haired man. The man said nothing as he moved closer to him, his red eyes not once leaving his. This man was a warrior, a hunter, a killer. A smile crossed Hari's features, 'good, so was he.'._


End file.
